HORNS HONKING, private cars and taxis stream into this Bekaa Valley resort town, orange, red, green, blue and yellow flags flying from their windows. The streets are thronged with men, women and children. Traffic circles are surrounded by tight rings of jostling vehicles.
Police in grey uniforms try to keep order while armed soldiers in camouflage hover on the sidelines beside armoured troop carriers and lorries.
Fifty-thousand troops are deployed throughout the country to make certain there is no trouble in the bitterly fought contest between the western- backed ruling alliance of Catholic, Sunni Muslim and Druze parties on one side and the Syrian- and Iranian-supported opposition of Shia and Christian factions on the other. Ahead of the vote, the opposition was favoured to win six Zahleh seats, but the ruling bloc has fought hard to turn the tide.
Here 61 candidates from six sectarian communities are standing for seven seats in the 128-member parliament. Voting at a tidy school in an upmarket neighbourhood is calm and orderly. Men and women stand in lines by sect outside rooms where their names have been posted in long lists. They clutch identity cards and tiny scraps of paper handed out by party agents. On these pieces of paper are printed the names of candidates according to blocs. Inside classrooms, voters enter curtained booths where they cross out names they do not want, put the papers into small brown envelopes and drop them into clear plastic boxes. Since there are no official ballots, the system is prone to fraud. Party supporters wearing insignia and distinctive clothing not only circulate freely outside the school and in the courtyard but also sit inside the classrooms monitoring the voting and taking exit polls.
Joseph Anis Malouf, a Christian candidate, says the ruling bloc is determined to disarm Hizbullah so it cannot “turn its arms against fellow Lebanese”. Mr Malouf, a management consultant, is running with the aim of battling corruption, building a non-confessional civil society and preventing Lebanon from falling under the influence of Iran.
Pascal, a blonde woman wearing the orange T-shirt of the opposition Christian party loyal to Gen Michel Aoun, argues, “We have given them the chance to rule for 20 years. We want to give Hizbullah a chance. We want change.”
At a second school, in a scruffy district at the edge of town, the scene is chaotic, the collection of voters more varied. There are Shia women enveloped in black cloaks, Christians sporting large crosses, bedouin women with tattooed chins, chic ladies in designer suits, and girls in tight jeans and the distinctive yellow T-shirts of Hizbullah. Party touts openly offer handsome bribes.
Alia Hawi is a small Shia woman in a T-shirt and red cap. She supports Elia Skaff, a popular Greek Catholic politician from a political dynasty. She flatly dismisses the notion that Hizbullah might make her wear conservative clothing, a fear stoked by the ruling camp.
“I wear what I want. I am free to do what I want The media give the world a bad idea about Hizbullah. It will bring stability and defend the country.”
On the lips of many is the saying, “As Zahleh goes, so goes the nation.” The US and its allies fear Zahleh could also lead the region, shifting the balance of power from pro-western “moderates” to “radical” Muslims led by the Shia Hizbullah movement. Once again, Lebanon is being torn apart by an East-West tussle which has dominated political life since the country was carved out of Greater Syria after the first World War.